Page 44 of Her Sweetest Rogue (The Worthington Legacy #6)

T rey and Nic’s business lasted longer than anticipated. He told Nic to spend the night and they would continue their dealings in the morning. As Trey climbed the stairs to his bedroom, his heart wrenched with worry. It had hurt to see the pain of doubt fill Judith’s eyes, but he didn’t dare tell her the truth. Not yet. How could he tell her about the newest findings of good ole Alexander Cutler? Trey couldn’t.

Not when Alex was being investigated for murdering Judith’s parents.

Agony twisted Trey’s stomach. Her parents’ death was still too recent. Judith continued to mourn for them. Opening old wounds would be painful, and Trey couldn’t allow her to suffer in such a way. Not until they knew for certain if Alex had done the crime.

Trey stopped at her bedroom door and knocked softly. When no answer came from the other side, he grinned. She must be asleep. He’d wake her up in a very enjoyable way.

He opened the door and walked inside, but came to a quick halt. The bed was empty. Could she be waiting for him in his bedroom? He didn’t know why, but anticipation had him rushing down the hall and into his room. He stopped again when his bed lay empty, too.

Had his mother occupied more of Judith’s evening? He doubted it, especially because she was so exhausted when he talked to her earlier.

He left his room and practically ran down the stairs to the drawing room. Empty. He hurried to the dining room. Empty.

Growling, he dragged his fingers through his hair. Where was she?

“My lord?”

He jumped and turned toward one of his mother’s servants. The older man wore the black and white uniform, holding out a folded piece of paper.

“My lord, I was instructed to give this to you.”

Trey took the paper. “Who instructed you to hand this to me?”

“A man who came to the door earlier this evening.”

“Did he leave his name?”

“No, my lord. Just this.”

Trey nodded. “Thank you.” He turned and walked into the drawing room as he opened the letter and stopped near a light to read.

“Dear Trey. I have realized how wrong I was about everything. I’m still in love with Alex and I want to marry him. Please know I never wanted to hurt you, but I must follow my heart. Sincerely, Judith.”

Trey’s breathing stopped as he sank to the nearest chair. An invisible knife ripped through his chest, leaving him hollow inside. He stared at the letter, not believing what he’d read. She couldn’t have gone back to that man.

Numbness spread through Trey’s mind and body like icy fingers. None of this made sense. They’d been so happy last night and this morning. She’d told him she loved him. So why did she now change her mind? Was it because he didn’t tell her about Alex?

Angered, he crunched the paper in his hand, making a fist. Something wasn’t right. She loved him! Why would any woman go back to the man who’d lied to her?

In a flash, the memory of Tristan and Lady Diana crossed his mind. Was Judith like Lady Diana? Had Trey been right about women this whole time and had a moment’s weakness around Judith?

He groaned as he dropped his face in his hands. It hurt to breathe. Hurt to think. Hurt to feel.

The shuffling of feet echoed from down the hallway. Voices raised and grew closer. He didn’t care. All he wanted to do was curl up and die. He wanted to get away from the pain this so-called love had brought him. The very pain his father had warned him about.

“Trey?”

Nic’s panicked voice brought Trey out of his thoughts and he jerked his head up. Nic and two servants entered the drawing room. The upstairs maid wrung her hands just under her breast as she stood in back of Nic.

“Trey, something has happened to Judith,” Nic said.

Trey shrugged. “I know. She returned to Alexander Cutler.”

Nic narrowed his stare. “What are you mumbling about? She didn’t go back to Mr. Cutler. She does not love him.”

Trey brought forth the crinkled paper. “Then why did she write this note for me?”

Nic yanked it from his hands and skimmed over the words. “This is not her writing.”

Jumping to his feet, Trey stood in front of his friend. “How do you know? You don’t know her handwriting.”

“Do you?” Nic rebutted.

“No. But why else…” Trey shook his head. “Why don’t you think she wrote this?”

Nic motioned the upstairs maid to come forward. When she stood in front of Trey, she curtsied.

“My lord, not too long ago I saw Miss Faraday outside by the gazebo. I looked away for a moment, and when I looked back, she had a blanket wrapped around her and was being dragged by a man wearing dark clothes.”

A different emotion washed over Trey and he straightened. “Someone was forcing her to leave?”

“Yes, my lord.”

He almost cried with relief. How foolish he’d been to jump to conclusions about her. Why hadn’t he put his trust in her love as he should have? She did love him, and he must believe it.

When he thought of her being forced from the estate, anger surged through him again. He looked at Nic. “Mr. Cutler has taken her.”

Hawthorne nodded. “That’s who I thought it might be, as well.”

Trey shook the paper in his hand. “This was probably written by the man himself.” He glanced at the writing again, realizing it didn’t appear feminine at all. Judith’s handwriting would have been precise. Perfect. Just like her.

He glanced back at the maid. “Did you see where he was taking her?”

“No, my lord. By the time I found somebody to tell, they had left the estate.”

Trey held his pounding head in his hands as he paced the floor. Where would that man have taken her?

“Trey?”

He stopped and faced Nic. “What?”

“Mr. Cutler knew about Judith’s inheritance. I have no doubt.”

Trey nodded as he squeezed his eyes closed. “I believe you are right.”

“Being the calculated, underhanded man Mr. Cutler is, there’s only one place he would have taken her.”

Trey snapped his attention to Nic as they both said the same thing.

“Gretna Green.”